


no hay igual

by awildcur



Series: i love that johnny coco cruz [13]
Category: Mayans M.C. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Jealousy, Knifeplay, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:28:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29736660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awildcur/pseuds/awildcur
Summary: Reader shows up at the clubhouse with the intention of making Coco insanely jealous. (Spoiler: It totally works.)(from a request on tumblr)
Relationships: Johnny "Coco" Cruz/Original Female Character(s), Johnny "Coco" Cruz/Reader
Series: i love that johnny coco cruz [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2185551
Kudos: 8





	no hay igual

With a cigarette placed between his lips, Coco watches you from across the yard. His eyes track your every movement, slightly narrowing when you trail a finger over the inked skin of another patch. The girl sitting on his lap whispers in his ear but her coy words don’t register. His eyes are focused on you and how you’re wearing that tight ass outfit. The neckline is way too low and the hemline of your skirt barely covers your ass—you definitely can’t bend over without giving the whole party a show.

His eyes catch yours when you throw your head back in laughter. You still for a brief moment, acknowledging him before cutting your eyes back to the patch from Stockton. The girl still sitting pretty on his lap, Coco’s hand grips her thigh and squeezes. She giggles in his ear, mistaken, and breathes out a request for him to take her somewhere less crowded. Long, painted nails toy with the collar of his kutte before she boldly takes hold of his chin. She turns his face to hers for a kiss but the movement breaks him out of his spell, and he suddenly pulls back.

Brows furrowed, he looks the girl up and down. Whatever flirtatious notions that were between them have clearly vanished on his part. Coco turns away from her, blowing out a puff of smoke into the air before stubbing out his cigarette. He looks back at her with cold eyes, and in an equally cold voice demands, “Get off.”

She looks at him, confused, and when she doesn’t move, Coco lifts the girl off of his lap himself without another word. She scoffs and spews some curses at his back as he walks away from her, but he pays them no mind.

You can feel him approaching, your body already on alert before your eyes set sight on him. You absentmindedly lick at your lips as Coco strides over in your direction. Quickly, you say something about getting a drink to the patch next to you—an excuse that allows you to walk away momentarily. With a look over your shoulder to Coco, you head inside the clubhouse.

It’s relatively empty, since pretty much everyone is partying outside. You wander over to the bar, pretending to be in search of a drink. You pick up a few different bottles, eyeing the labels and pursing your lips in mock consideration before putting them back down.

Without warning, your upper body is pushed further into the bar, a presence suddenly at your back. You hold your breath as it overwhelms your senses. Coco’s arms reach out, snaking around you and his hands clutch the bar on either side of you—effectively trapping you in place.

“You got some nerve, mujer.” His voice is gruff and his lips are at your ear. “You come here, to _my_ clubhouse,” he says, his body pressing against yours, “lookin’ like _this?_ ”

You swallow hard.

“Out there showin’ everyone what’s mine?” he adds, breathing a small laugh against your cheek. You feel him shake his head at you as he asks, “You didn’t really think that shit was gonna fly, did you?”

You open your mouth to speak but nothing comes out. Coco’s hands play with the hem of your short skirt, the pads of his fingertips brushing against your thighs, no doubt leaving goosebumps in his wake.

“Then you have the _fuckin’ nerve_ to flirt with another patch? Right in front of me?”

This snaps you out of it, briefly. The utter audacity of his words are quick to encourage your shamelessness. As if you didn’t arrive to find him with some random girl all over him, all over his lap. You turn your head to look at him as best as your position allows.

“What?” you scoff at him. “You gettin’ jealous, Johnny?” Using his hold on you to your advantage, you press back against him and he growls in your ear. You lick your lips, unable to help the smirk that crosses your face at his reaction. “Should’ve thought about that before you let me go.”

Suddenly, you’re bent over at the waist and your upper body is pressed against the bar. You gasp at the unexpected movement, turning to rest your cheek on the bar as Coco hovers over you.

“You wanted my attention, mujer?” he rasps, voice gruff in your ear. “You fuckin’ got it.”

You struggle to find your words again, your mind now in a haze. You knew exactly what you were doing when you showed up at the clubhouse. Yes, you wanted his attention, his jealousy—and it’s leaving you breathless now that you have it.

“Johnny,” you finally gasp out. “ _Fuck_ , please-” you’re abruptly cut off by Coco pulling you back up. You look back at him, confused, but he’s staring over at the door.

“You good, homes?” he asks, and that’s when you notice another Stockton patch stumbling into the clubhouse. He mumbles back at Coco in Spanish, clearly drunk off his ass. Coco looks at you, his eyes still aflame despite the interruption. “You know where to go,” he growls out before pulling away from you and walking over to the drunken patch.

It takes a moment for his words to register, the haze of him that clouds your mind still present. But when they do, you move, because you _do_ know where to go.

The clubhouse utility closet isn’t the most glamorous or romantic of places, but that’s never stopped you and Coco. You shiver slightly at the chill in the air as you wait for him, leaning against the beat up washing machine. Luckily, he doesn’t take long.

He drinks in your form, smirking as he notices your shivering, your hard nipples visible through your top. You watch as he crosses the small space to a lone, worn out chair. He sits, leaning back as he looks you up and down. Coco licks his lips and teases, “Cold in here, chula?”

You don’t answer but saunter over to where he sits and straddle his lap.

“Whatchu doin’?” he asks, despite his hands immediately taking their place on your hips.

“Taking my spot back,” you say and lean forward, capturing his lips in a kiss.

It’s rough and hungry, after nearly a month of not touching one another. The last time he had his hands on you was right before he called it quits. Again.

_Club shit._ _Too busy._ _Too_ _dangerous_ _._ His favorite go-to excuses. You’ve heard them before and you’ll probably hear them again. But it doesn’t last too long, it never does. The constant pull you feel to one another is strong, and no matter how much Coco tries to deny it for your “protection”, he belongs to you just as much as you belong to him.

Heat steadily rises inside you as you feel Coco’s hands on your body again, slowly replacing the initial chill you felt in the room. You move against him, needing to be as close to him as possible.

His hands trail up your thighs, pushing up your skirt to your waist. You smile into the kiss, but it quickly turns to a gasp when you feel his palm landing on your round cheek, stinging your flesh. You’ve missed that feeling.

He bites down on your bottom lip, tugging at it before releasing. You whimper at the action and he licks at your bottom lip, soothing it, and kisses you once more before pulling back.

Coco looks up at you, head tilted so he observes you with hooded eyes. He licks his lips as he admires how good you look on top of him, straddling his lap. You can feel his admiration growing in his jeans, too.

A hand reaches up to hold your face while another reaches back, finding its way into his back pocket. Coco’s hand briefly caresses your face before moving downward to wrap around your neck, squeezing once. Your eyes instantly close as you relish in the feeling of him claiming you again.

“You really put on a show out there, chula,” he says, voice low. “Like the lil’ fuckin’ tease you are.”

“It’s not teasing if I follow through,” you quip.

Coco’s lips lift in a smirk as he nods up at you. “And you always do, don’t you?”

“Johnny,” you begin to whine when he pulls his other hand out, the metal in his hand catching the light and your attention. You look between him and the pocket knife, his eyes asking you for permission.

One of his hands still placed on your throat, you look straight in Coco’s eyes and nod. He flicks his wrist once, opening the knife.

It’s familiar territory between you two so you’re not scared; there’s no reason to be. The knife trails over your chest, pulling slightly at your top. Coco’s eyes alternate between his movements and gauging your reaction. Your breath hitches when you feel the cool metal on your skin. He trails the knife across your collarbone before hooking it underneath the skinny strap of your top, and swiftly pulls forward to cut through the material. Coco moves to your other strap and gives it the same treatment.

Your chest heaves. Despite still being relatively covered, the way your cut straps hang off your top makes you feel exposed.

“If we weren’t at the clubhouse,” he says, eyes dark, “I’d cut this whole top off of you.”

Your hands move to the neckline, and you wordlessly pull the top down, exposing your bra-less breasts to him. “Save that for when you take me home.”

You lean forward and he meets you in a kiss, his knife-free hand on your waist to keep you close. Your own hands move to his belt, fumbling with the buckle before successfully undoing it.

“Johnny, please,” you whisper. “I need to feel you.”

“Push your skirt up.”

You do as you’re told, and he hooks his finger into the side of your panties, tugging them forward before pulling the knife back up and cutting through them. He does the same to the other side, and you want to joke that he owes you a new pair but you’re so close to having him inside you again that the thought is quickly discarded.

Coco pulls the ruined panties away from your body, tucking both them and the knife back into his pocket. You lift off of him briefly to tug down his jeans and boxers in one fell swoop, and take your spot back once again as you reclaim him with your body.

The small space is filled with the sound of your moans mingling together. Coco’s hands grip at your waist, his fingers digging into your flesh as you bounce on top of him. Your movements are frantic as you chase your orgasm. Coco’s fingers find their way to your clit and rub harsh circles. The pent up frustration you’ve felt for almost a month coils in your stomach and you tense, clenching hard around his length before the coil finally releases.

You muffle your scream in Coco’s neck as you cum on his lap. He lets you sit and catch your breath for a moment after, ignoring his desire to thrust up into your warmth. Once your breathing is regular, he lands a hard slap on your ass.

“We ain’t done yet, mujer,” Coco whispers in your ear. “Now go bend over on that washing machine so I can tap that ass.”

You lift yourself off him, taking the chance to completely discard your skirt and top. You feel his eyes on you as you take the few steps towards the washing machine, bending over at the waist so he can see just how much you want him.

You hear Coco rise from the chair and kick his jeans away. When you look over your shoulder, you watch as he removes his kutte before taking his shirt off. He throws it to the side and you admire his tattooed chest as he advances towards you.

He grabs the back of your neck, pulling your head back as he looms over you, and leans down to kiss you. Coco’s tongue slips into your mouth and his hand wraps around his dick; he slides the tip up and down between your lips. He pulls away slightly, watching your face as he finally pushes into your warmth. You groan at the feeling, your brows furrowing together as you look up at him, mouth slightly agape.

You look so fucking pretty, he’ll never understand why you keep choosing him.

Coco pulls back before quickly thrusting back into you. You moan at his movements, pushing back to meet each one of his thrusts. One hand now gripping your hip, the other is placed on your lower abdomen.

“You feel that?” he groans in your ear. “Only I can make you feel this good.” You clutch at the sides of the washing machine, whining at his words and how good his dick feels when he slams inside you. “No one else can fuck you like me, can they, baby?”

Looking over your shoulder, you shake your head. He’s right; no one has ever made you feel the way he does. You’ve tried with a few others during your longer off periods, but they all fell short in one way or another.

No one has a hold on you like he does.

Coco can tell you’re getting close, and he pulls the hand on your abdomen away, bringing it up to your mouth. Two fingers placed at your lips, you wrap your mouth around them at once, sucking the digits. When he pulls them away, he places them on your clit, once again rubbing circles, and making your eyes roll in the back of your head as his thrusts become increasingly faster.

You gasp, moaning out his name and many praises of how fucking good he makes you feel, letting anyone who walks into the clubhouse know exactly who you belong to.

The coil inside you is on the brink once again, just about to let loose. Your eyes screw shut as your body tenses, Coco groaning out loud curses at how tightly your pussy clenches around him.

Fuck the clubhouse, you’re certain everyone outside can hear your screams as you cum. Your face is wet with tears, eyes screwed shut as Coco keeps you clinging to your high as he searches for his own. You cry out for him to cum for you until finally, finally he stills. His face buried in your neck, he bites down on your sensitive flesh, marking you as he releases inside you.

You both fall forward, gasping and panting loudly. Coco holds you against him, your bodies slick with sweat. After a few moments, he turns you around in his arms and kisses you. You breathe in each other’s breath, and he rests his forehead against yours.

“You know you’re it for me, right?” he huffs out. “There’s no one-” he shakes his head, “- _no one_ else.”

You bring your hands up to his face.

“I know I can be a pendejo sometimes,” he adds. “But it’s ‘cause you deserve so much better than what I can give you.”

“All I want is what you can give,” you reply with a shake of your head. “’Cause you’re it for me, too. No one could ever come close.”

Coco kisses you once more before pulling back to look at you.

“Now, take me the fuck home already, Johnny,” you tell him. “Where I fuckin’ belong.”


End file.
